The relentless sun heats the small golden specks of sand, the beach, and the hearts of two boys at play. Lilliputian castles rise up, along with joy and shouts, until they have to bid each other farewell and everyone goes their own way. The two little boys go way of autumn studies—and much more—but what way does the sand go?
In the furnace at the glass factory, its silicon dioxide is fired again, this time for good, along with sodium carbonate (soda), potassium carbonate (potash) and calcium oxide. Their fusion brings a wonderful result. Transparent or coloured glass, which, with the help of the imagination and passion of the experts, takes on all kinds of different shapes.
Among myriad others, I too was a humble bottle. But what was my purpose? I was constantly wondering in what way I would prove useful throughout my long journey, undefined in time, in the absolute darkness of a huge truck. My secret desire was to be in places I knew nothing of, away from the restless sea and the noisy beach that I had been part of for an incalculable length of time. My habitual ignorance endured, like the secrets of the unknown abyss, throughout the entire journey from the factory to the famous Tokaji, near the Carpathian Mountains. My dream had come true!
My second, ardent wish was to host a fine natural wine, with little or no sulphite. I was completely indifferent as to whether it would be pink, white or red, semi-dry or divinely sweet! To be sure, the wines would have a longer life if they contained additives and preservatives. Consequently, mine would too… However, I was more interested in its natural evolution inside me, more attracted to its primary aromas. I was fascinated by its spontaneous, unfiltered character and its unpretentious complexity! In fact, during my transfer to the storage area, I learned my name before I was even baptised in the traditional labelling ceremony.
‘Your attention please! Place the 1,750 numbered 750ml bottles and the 100 Magnums in the middle of the cellar, in the special area we have specially set aside for this order, which forms part of our modern history and is a reflection of our oenological identity. These bottles will host our new experimental vinification, Harsleveloü, The Natural Dry, with their name written on their embossed label’ the young Hungarian oenologist shouted to his associates. This instruction, given in a commanding tone of voice, sounded like a staccato passage in a piece of classical musical, setting the seal on the crucial mission I would embark on in the near future, and fulfilling my second wish. All I had to do now was wait patiently until the moment of union with the coveted wine took place. Time passed slowly and painfully, as though one century was succeeding another. The imposing silence and the uncompromising darkness held me defenceless before the new order of things. The initially annoying dust particles broke the law of silence, crashing into my shiny body, reaching my untouched innards. I began to recall the decibels I had heard in earlier years, then part of my daily reality and a sign of joy from bathers on the beach. Even the endless & rhythmically monotonous splash of the wave sounded like a beat in my heart.
But in fact that the best was yet to come. My patience—not that I had any choice—would be rewarded. After maturing in a reusable barrel, my chosen one would repose for seven months in an amphora. An earlier stay with the grape pulp for almost a month would define its hue. Wild yeasts and the absence of sulphites were already determining its future. The wedding was celebrated with proper care, granting a very respectable duration to our honeymoon… We would spend seven whole months exclusively together in a dark and cool but romantic crypt, before emerging into the outside world! The quiet there was more resonant than before, as the young wine inside me rapidly evolved.
Since the first vintage was in ’17, I thought it wouldn’t be long before we appeared proudly before the public who eagerly awaited us. My suspicion soon proved to be well-founded, when a group of people suddenly appeared, talking to each other animatedly, with evident impatience on their faces. However, not everyone from the winery was familiar to me. Silence again descended when a gentleman I did not know, but who seemed most important for some unspecified reason, began to look at me, saying the following flattering words which sealed my fate once and for all:
‘Here is a bottle of striking elegance! The neck of a swan, the height of a cypress tree, and lips kissed and sealed with a natural cork, hermetically closed and handmade with dark sealing wax, like the seal of eternal love! It holds within itself that most desirable of things: natural wine, full of rare aromas, untouched and virginal. A very limited production, cultivated organically. It will wait patiently for impatient hands to seize it and examine it with curiosity and wonder, turning it in every direction, and for lips to comment loudly and spontaneously on its embossed and elaborate label. It is a dignified bottle with the name, Harsleveloü, The Natural Dry, carved on the luxurious wooden case containing two bottles, each of 750 ml’.
These words came from a wine critic whose practice was first to describe the bottle and its packaging and then make his judgment by tasting the precious wine in it, sip by sip… I was not lucky enough to hear his verdict on the taste, not to become, myself, the most fortunate partner at his table, during the ritual tasting pleasure that followed! A dream of all my brother bottles who enjoy the merit of embracing within themselves the gift of the god Dionysus. To be appreciated by those who respect the efforts of their creator, those who know when to enjoy it and what should accompany it. This is the shared desire and pious wish of those bottles who studiously conceal something truly important that is worth waiting for.
But how long to wait? From the leaked notes of the wine critic, amber wine can be drunk now, but can also age for at least seven years. Its evolution is a mystery, and what you should do is to ‘forget’ the second bottle at the back of your wine store. This of course only applies to me, the regular 750ml bottle. For my cousin, the Magnum, the evolution of wine is slower, with the possibility of further ageing.
My luck did not leave me, even at the longed-for moment of my purchase. From the cellar of the winery, I found myself the very centre of interest, as a gift at a very important moment in the life of a young man. I was the choice of his best friend, who wanted to honour him at a party celebrating his success. They still remember playing games in the sand, the summers that marked their childhood. The years passed by heedlessly, as their friendship matured.
Then the time came to celebrate his success at university, with the pleasure that a rare wine with a special name can give. This natural wine was to be an expression of pure friendship in the natural evolution of the lives of the two young men.
‘There is no way these bottles are getting thrown away,’ our young man thought. My appearance exerted a certain attraction on him, apart from the fact that it was a gift from his childhood friend and a memento of the pleasure he took in his own progress. How could our young man imagine that I, the elegant bottle that repeatedly filled their glasses with wine, had been born from the hot sand, which, soaked by the tireless wave, had been transformed into castles by his then tiny hands! He placed me in a prominent position in the middle of his living room, as a candlestick, thus choosing to extend my life and fulfil my third wish! As the colourful candles melted, rolling slowly down my curves, they looked like multiple rainbows of bliss, sealing my destiny, that of the natural, unmanipulated evolution of life.
